Page 70 of Reclaimed

With one hand above her head and the other below, she inverts herself, her legs spreading into a V as the pole spins her around. The concentration on her face gives away her professionalism as well as her passion.

I fix my jeans over my cock, the material unnaturally tight. My fingers tingle as I watch her sway and grind against the metal between her legs. When she drops to her knees and imitates a crawl, those cinnamon-colored eyes locked on mine, I bite my tongue to stifle a groan. She pops back up and lifts herself back onto the pole, moving into a sort of flow of different moves that demonstrate her strength and sexuality.

As the strains of the song slow, Isla gracefully lowers herself back to her feet. She twerks a little with a giggle and a smile spreads across my face.

I clap at her enticing performance. “Well done, starshine.”

“Oh, I’m not finished with you yet.”

I watch curiously as she sashays closer and straddles me on the couch. My hands immediately find the beautiful crease where her thigh meets her hips. Fuck. If only she knew how hard I was just inches away. Nothing but the strip of her bodysuit separates me from the little piece of heaven I’m dying to experience again.

“No touching.” Her small fingers circle my wrists and pry my hands away. I relax and let her guide my limbs until my hands are on the back of my head. “Keep them there.”

“You let me touch you last time.”

Lust flares in her eyes. Her pink tongue swipes across her lips. “I remember.”

With her access unhindered, Isla slides forward until she’s pressing her pussy directly over my cock.

“Fuck,” I grunt, arms twitching above my head, but I keep them there. By the flush on her chest, she’s getting as much out of this as I am and I’m curious to see where this goes.

Her little gasp goes straight to my cock. Her hips roll, running her center over the ridge she can surely feel beneath her.

“Isla,” I warn. My arms lower halfway before she pushes them back without missing a sensuous beat.

“Be a good boy, Aiden.”

A tremble runs through my body. I grip the strands of my hair. “Baby, please let me touch you.”

She leans in so close, the scent of her flowery perfume surrounds me. Our faces nearly touch, her lips an inch awayfrom mine. The heat of her breath fans across my mouth. “Like here?” She closes the gap.

The kiss explodes with passion. I surge upright, my hands leaving my hair to wrap tight around her. She rocks against me, going backward before fighting me for the upper hand. One of my hands slips down to grip her ass, and at her gasp, I taste her. The velvet feeling of her tongue against mine nearly has me coming in my pants. I’m needy and desperate with lust flowing through me, and it’s never been clearer.

I want her. In all the ways a man can have her.

The way she grinds on my lap, I think she wants that too.

“Please,” I pant against her luscious lips, diving back in, not wanting to be long without. I’m so dizzy I want to drown in her. “Let me touch you.”

At her nod I’m pawing at her clothes. My hand dives between us, wedging into the incredibly tight space between her pelvis and mine, and I yank open the snaps. The tension of her bodysuit falls away and the fabric springs up around her hips, exposing her entire lower half.

She’s naked.

Oh my fucking god. Her entire pussy is naked on my lap.

I suck in a sharp breath and with a twist of my wrist, I drill two fingers inside her. I swallow her shrill gasp and moan down her throat. She’s warm and oh, so fucking wet. My thumb strums across her clit, and she convulses in my lap.

The muscles of my lower stomach jerk, hollowing as her fingers dip beneath the hem of my tee shirt. Her slender digits dance across the ridges of muscles, tracing the valleys between them. She slips a finger beneath the waistband of my jeans. I twitch so hard I nearly throw her off like an ornery bull.

“Sensitive, lover?”

“You could say that,” I grunt against her mouth.

The click of the button and slow crawl of the zipper has goosebumps skittering across my skin. “I want to touch you too,” she pants.

I watch myself finger her, focusing on something other than the anticipation of her touch. I haven’t had a hand that wasn’t my own wrapped around my dick in a couple years, and even then the incidents were few and far between.

A few drunken encounters that I thought could go all the way but pulled back. Every fucking time.

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